As the two exiting northern and southern hemisphere
Our emblazing heart will sleep in peace for years in grave
When we will get up again, life’s another chapter will begin.
Give me your sweet laugh
We discover the forever green atmosphere
The leaves swing in the breeze by the river
Life is a bond
The entity of two makes one.
People dream for making a place in Mars
It needs force to encounter the gravitation
We go forward leaving all the wastes behind
From one to another planet
Our blink for the same mirror
Nothing can smash the glass to look into the broken frame.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
12 June, 2025.
Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.
The New Springtime Journals, Prose Poems and Pictures
(for Tara)
Rya, R-eee-ya, R-iii-ya, goes the bird and it’s night when that occurred and the bird is unseen. There are soft lights in the real reality indoors. Love and friendship also, plus literature,- stacks of books. Papers and pens.
Before, it was morning, and the sun ascended and the earth was warm if a little damp. Reading quickly through Rimbaud’s life and times. The diviner listened to, said a bird would fly overhead. A slightly larger than normal bird. This happened. And there was a large tree and winding paths, hills that went quietly up and then standing on the summit one could see far and far,- distant buildings and more hills,- trees. I watched the thawed and therefore flowing river, and the closer I went the louder and more wonderful it was. Morning, afternoon, dusk, and night. These things and the things within them. Airplanes and clouds in the sky. Spring. The new springtime. The springtime poems from springtime journals. Messages. Letters. Many words.
A ring. I had lost a ring. Looked for it for weeks. Then I let it go for a while. When this night arrived I sat in silence and it came to me…the ring is on a bookshelf. I didn’t know exactly where but that was the message. From spirit or from the higher self or internal knowledge or something. I got up. Turned on lights. Stood before the shelf. Saw a small box. Opened it. There was a picture of Jesus Christ and a small medallion also, and some jewellery. There, amidst all that, was the missing ring. I put it on my finger. I had tried it on at a carnival once, the night fairgrounds of electric eclectic wondrous lights, vendors, music, scents wafting through the nocturne. Distant firecrackers of the firmament. Metropolis of summer. Scenes. Life. Streets. Cars. People. So many people moving about. The vendor: ‘It fits well.’ Me: ‘Yes.’ Memory. The beloved. Brown eyes and dimples, slight blonde streaks in her dark brown hair. Lovely. She doesn’t wear earrings but has been of late,- this year. She is pretty. Naturally pretty. A good soul. Wise. Strong. Honest. Reliable. From the South. Virginia.
We look around at the carnival night. Before and after ride buses, trains, and in a car. Fine. Summer evening. Make memories. Hold hands. Talk. You know how it goes. Everyone has a story as they say.
Back to now: pears and strawberries. Literary biography. Dreams. Good dreams and some bad dreams. But far less bad dreams than before. Almost a whole day without writing prose poems. For reading. For finishing a book I was into. Carson McCullers. A biography. Hmm. Pastel green duvet. We share chocolate the brown haired one and I. A fan whirls. The fields are out there, to be walked in and through, tomorrow morning again. Birds. And window sills here. Silence. Glass. Fences. Cleaning things. Wondering about the future. Aruba. Planes. Places. Beaches. Pools. Short walks. Longer walks. What will be there? Pictures and poems from the parapets and by the promenades of life. hopefully. Take it easy. The world needs less ambitious people anyhow. There should be a district for daydreamers, a mountain for magic, an arena for artists, a shrine for seers, a beach for believers, an applause and clause for the apolitical, a placid pool for poets…
There is a story I wrote about a blue crocheted heart and a small metal heart was found while looking for that ring. A diviner said: ‘Someone out there can hear this message- a blue heart I am seeing. Strange. Hearts are usually red. But this is blue. That message is for someone in the collective…’
Later I’ll step outside. Maybe the night birds will be there somewhere in the distance. A-r-iy a. Ryiiia. That’s what they seem to say. Loquacious if anything. It’s spring. I guess they are taking to their friends. Everyone communicates in their own way. The birds sing those strange songs. The architect makes a rendering. The mechanic repairs the engine. The train conductor sounds a whistle. A teacher makes a rubric. The novelist, an outline first usually. The poet the poem. The mystic creates themselves a new, with God.
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.
Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
With the prevalence of social media and growing societal expectations, it has become increasingly common for individuals to voice their frustrations and opinions online, particularly in technologically advanced societies. While there are valid reasons for expressing dissatisfaction on such platforms, I strongly assert that this trend has both harmful consequences and meaningful benefits. On the one hand, it may increase negativity and affect mental health; on the other, it can raise public awareness and lead to quicker solutions for social problems.
One of the major consequences of this trend is the spread of negativity online, which can significantly impact individuals’ mental well-being. As more people share complaints and disappointments about their lives, it creates a cycle of emotional dissatisfaction that others are exposed to daily. This constant exposure can lead users to feel more anxious, discontent, or even inferior, especially when comparing their own lives to what they see online. Over time, such emotional stress can damage people’s mental health and reduce the overall positivity of online spaces.
Despite these downsides, public complaints on social media also offer a significant benefit: they can serve as a catalyst for change. By bringing issues such as poor infrastructure, low-quality services, or political concerns into the public eye, individuals can draw attention from government bodies, service providers, and the media. For example, in Uzbekistan, citizens often highlight poor road conditions via social platforms. In many cases, these posts go viral and prompt authorities to respond quickly. In this way, social media empowers ordinary people to contribute to community development and hold institutions accountable.
In conclusion, although venting frustrations on social media can negatively affect users’ mental health by spreading pessimism and stress, it also allows people to highlight societal problems and demand immediate action. Thus, while the trend may carry emotional risks, it plays a vital role in raising awareness and pushing for positive change.
My name is Rashidova Jasmina, daughter of Bahodir. I was born on November 23rd, 2008, in Shakhrisabz district, located in the Kashkadarya Region of Uzbekistan. I am currently a 10th-grade student at School No. 74.
Throughout my academic journey, I have proudly taken part in numerous educational grants, national seminars, and academic meetings. I am a winner of several contests and competitions dedicated to education and innovation. Notably, I was a finalist in both the “BBG” and “FO” programs, which further motivated my passion for leadership and community development.
One of my most prestigious achievements includes being awarded the “Katta Liderlar” grant, which recognizes young emerging leaders in Uzbekistan. I also had the honor of participating as a delegate representing Switzerland in a Model United Nations (MUN) conference, where I strengthened my skills in diplomacy, negotiation, and global issues.
In addition to my academic accomplishments, I run my own educational channel, where I teach and mentor students in various subjects. I am also the founder and instructor of a Pixel Art course, where I combine creativity with digital skills to inspire others in the field of design and technology.
Christopher Bernard celebrates the photography of urban chronicler Vivian Maier and the recent rediscovery of her work.
Gopal Lahiri’s poetry looks over varied landscapes – aging city infrastructure, a painted teatime scene, a rainstorm – with a painter’s thoughtful eye.
Wazed Abdullah draws on soft, childlike language to elegantly portray a monsoon rain in Bangladesh. Don Bormon writes in a similar style of the rain’s return in the region after a hot sunny summer. Tamoghna Dey speaks to the strength and flexibility of water as a metaphor.
Eva Petropoulou Lianou finds union with nature on her daily walk, taking inspiration from its diversity and authenticity. David Sapp’s poetry highlights our human connection to the rest of nature through musings on barns, fields, and a dead cat.
Chimezie Ihekuna revels in the beauty of nature and the intricate ways in which its systems work and creatures survive, but warns of its destruction. Graciela Noemi Villaverde also urges care for the natural world and highlights how natural systems can self-heal and regenerate.
Sayani Mukherjee revels in the passage of seasons in nature as Kylian Cubilla Gomez explores the hidden world of snails, centering the small mollusk in his photos. Sara Hunt-Flores reflects on the sun lighting her path, helping her distinguish illusion from reality.
Svetlana Rostova uses nature metaphors to convey the breadth and intensity of her past experiences. Mahbub Alam compares falling in love to the wonder of seeing a firefly. Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumnova illuminates the way love can revive a person and rejuvenate their life. Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai evokes memory and the ecstasy of falling in love. Mesfakus Salahin pleads with a lover to take him back as a response to his enduring feelings.
Stephen Jarrell Williams reflects on the poignancy and power of stories: those in books and those of family love and passing generations. Kassandra Aguilera’s poetry expresses love that remains despite troubled parental relationships. Bill Tope’s short story addresses a platonic and artistic friendship between a man and a woman and the tragic social disapproval that drives them apart.
Scott C. Holstad probes various sorts of physical and emotional desire. Duane Vorhees speaks to birth and death, love and war, then turns to a personal blues poem about feeling disillusioned by faith.
Gordana Saric offers up a prayer for personal compassion and global peace. Brian Barbeito shares daily musings on meaning and ethics and and speculates on our individual lives’ effects on the universe. Inayatullah encourages us all to look inward and heal our inner wounds and forgive each other in order to change the world on a larger scale.
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa shares the hope and strength and healing she finds through her faith. K. Sayyid Mubashir Hadhi explicates the spiritual and cultural significance of Eid Al-Adha. Timothee Bordenave’s old-style pieces express his spiritual faith and desire for universal oneness. Bruce Mundhenke expresses how faith and wisdom can outlast our technologies and our inhumanity to each other. R.K. Singh calls us to ethnic and religious tolerance based on the world’s complex history and celebrates physical and spiritual love.
Dr. Jernail Singh speculates on how literature and drama, religious or not, can inspire moral development as well as catharsis, when villainy and evil are stopped. Matthew Kinlin interviews Kenneth M. Cale about the inspirations and creative process behind his book Midnight Double Feature: Director’s Cut, a stand against the growing darkness he sees in the world.
Lidia Popa describes the power of writing to transmute ideas and feelings into a mode of communication from one soul to another. Haroon Rashid outlines the role of silence, observation, and empty space for thoughtful writing in his ars poetica.
Xadjiyeva Nodira studies idioms and whether the phrases can take on different meanings within the same language. Kaljanova Gulmira’s paper outlines the benefits of having a language learner “shadow” a native speaker. Shahnoza Ochildiyeva’s essay explicates the complex task of translation and how, as of now, translation requires a human being with cultural awareness.
Isabel Gomes de Diego’s photography celebrates human and natural creativity in various forms: origami, sewing, typing. Bahora Mansurova turns to the craft of medicine, discussing ways to treat periodontal diseases. Linda S. Gunther reviews Kristina McMorris’ suspense novel of the newsroom, Sold on a Monday.
Nozima Gofurova describes an educational visit to Tashkent’s Mirzo Hotel, where she learned about Central Asian art and history. Joseph Ogbonna highlights the majesty and historical influence of ancient Egyptian civilization. Maja Milojkovic’s ekphrastic work draws inspiration from the strength of ancient Herakles.
Z.I. Mahmud explores feminist speculative literature in India and the works of Begum Rokeya Sakhawat Hossein. Bhagirath Choudhary, in a piece translated by Eva Petropoulou Lianou, advocates for respect for women and for society to celebrate positive traits traditionally associated with the nurturing feminine.
Eva Petropoulou Lianou speaks of her intimate and demanding relationship with her female poetic muse. Isaac Dominion Aju reflects on the artistic inspiration he received from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, whose work helped him to find his own voice. Donna Dallas’ poetic speakers find writing inspiration from a quiet morning, a busy urban city full of desire, and the throes of drug addiction. Hauwa’u Naseer Mukhtar evokes the peace and creative source of solitude as Chloe Schoenfeld resolutely affirms her claim to her own soul.
Kelly Moyer’s asemic poetry invites us to the experience of appreciating writing and art, even without literal meaning. Ric Carfagna’s poetry touches on perception, how we experience and make sense of our world.
Loki Nounou reflects on life’s unpredictability, as S. Afrose exposes existence’s slippery nature, complex and hard to pin down and define. Utso Bhattacharyya’s short story involves an ordinary man’s visit to a surreal reality existing alongside and within our own.
Alex S. Johnson’s horror tale probes the insidious way oppression works not only through violence, but also through individual and social gaslighting. Mark Young’s poetry crafts off-kilter scenes where people and other creatures adjust to their settings.
J.J. Campbell turns to poignant nostalgia while experiencing slow trauma. John Angelo Camomot’s verse speaks to the grief of losing a loved one and the comfort of memories.
Sean Meggeson’s humorous tales probe our relationships with authority and failures of communication. On the theme of authority, Taylor Dibbert observes wryly that leaders who are least affected by policies are often the first to advocate for them.
Mykyta Ryzhykh’s short story depicts war as an unwelcome trespasser, refusing to communicate its intentions or ask permission to occupy someone’s basement. Ahmed Miqdad laments the suffering of civilians in Gaza while expressing hope for the region. Combat veteran Steven Croft speculates on goals for a possible return to United States military intervention in Afghanistan and hopes they will finally get girls back to school.
